


Sterek Chub Week Challenge (Holiday Style)

by da_athanasi



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Chubby Derek Hale, Chubby Kink, M/M, chub week challenge, chubby sterek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-05 06:12:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13381824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/da_athanasi/pseuds/da_athanasi
Summary: The idea is to focus on a character’s growth in a particular area of their body:- Moob Monday (Mammary Monday for a female character, maybe?)- Tummy Tuesday- Wide Wednesday (hips/love handles)- Thick Thighs Thursday- Fat Ass Friday (or Fupa Friday)- Fatterday Saturday (Stretch marks, chins, arms, etc., or any other body part not previously addressed that the author wants to focus on.)- Stuffed Sunday (hedonistic pleasures related to the character’s growth on the day of rest.)





	1. Moob Monday

Stiles really should have been paying more attention. That’s the thought that kept running through his head, anyways. In his defense, Derek should have been used to Stiles’s flailing by now. Sure, they haven’t seen each other in a couple years, but they’ve also known each other for almost a decade so it shouldn’t have been a huge surprise that Stiles would do something weird with his hands.

It had all started with Scott’s wedding. Well, Scott’s wedding and Christmas. Scott and Kira were tying the knot finally, which meant Stiles had to fly himself back home from the east coast. They had decided to get married between Christmas and New Years, which meant most of their guest could combine family visits and wedding attendance.

Not that Stiles really minded that much. Any excuse to see his dad and Scott was a good one. What he hadn’t expected was that his dad would demand that he stop at the grocery store to pick up a bottle of wine on his way from the airport. Stiles was already pretty exhausted from having to get up early to depart, only to be stuck on a three hour layover in Chicago. At least his dad had left his Jeep at the airport for him, but as he pulled up to the small grocery off of Main Street, Stiles starts getting texts from Scott, asking for more things. (Why the hell did they need three cucumbers and a tube of toothpaste right this minute?!)

In his efforts to be efficient, Stiles definitely had not been watching where he was going as he stomped down the aisles, his phone in front of his face and his fingers flying across the keyboard as he had an emoji war with Scott. That’s really the only excuse Stiles has for basically running headlong into another person. Another person whose big, solid body almost sent Stiles back on his ass, had the other person not had extremely fast reflexes and grabbed Stiles before he could fall.

All in all, it really shouldn’t be that surprising that Stiles ended up with on hand pressed to Derek Hale’s chest and the other wrapped around his waist with his phone clattering on the floor. (In a case, of course, because Stiles wasn’t stupid and was way too accident-prone NOT to have one.)

Still, coming face-to-face with his teenaged crush within an hour of returning to Beacon Hills was definitely something that Stiles wasn’t expecting. That could explain the staring he was doing, although the beauty of Derek’s multi-hued eyes was always something that Stiles never really got over. What it didn’t explain was the surprised, almost scared look Derek was giving him, or how tightly Derek was squeezing his bicep.

Without thinking, Stiles squeezed his right hand on Derek’s pectoral, finding a lot more softness there than he thought he would. Breaking eye contact, Stiles took a moment to really look at Derek’s face. Was it…rounder than it used to be? His jaw line was definitely softer, and it almost seemed like Derek had a hint of a double chin.

Looking down where his hand was sitting, Stiles noticed that beneath the soft maroon sweater Derek was wearing (Damn Derek Hale and his penchant for wearing the softest looking sweaters!), Derek’s previously firm chest wasn’t quite as solid as it used to be. Without thinking, Stiles, squeezed Derek’s pec again, marveling at what was undoubtedly fat coating the once-hard muscle. Stiles felt the stirrings of arousal as a gasp came from the man in front of him.

Looking back up, Stiles saw that Derek’s face had gone red under his stubble, his eyes wide and his mouth open. Realizing that he was still standing in the grocery store, groping his high school crush, Stiles flailed back, ripping himself free of Derek’s grip as he tore his hands from Derek’s body.

Stiles felt himself flush with embarrassment. “Uh…shit, dude…I am so sorry!” Stiles stammered.

Derek stood gaping at him, his face bright red and his ears (his fucking adorable ears) starting to match. (Shit, his bunny teeth are showing too!)

Stiles began to feel the incredible awkwardness of the situation build up around them. Feeling the guilt pull heavily in his stomach, Stiles broke the tension the only way he knew how.

“Hey, Derek, good to see you, man! What are you doing back in Beacon Hills? Last I saw you was that last trip back here when you got turned to stone. Really glad we got you outta that craziness. I’m here for Scott’s wedding, though you probably already knew that. Are you gonna be there? Not that you’ve probably got your own plans or whatever. How’s Cora? Is she still in South America? That’s gotta suck for you. I know how much werewolves hate flying. Unless that’s just a lie Scott’s been telling me to keep from having to fly up to visit. But anyways you look good, man! You look like you’ve settled into the good life. Like, you look more relaxed, softer, happier…”

Stiles face blushed. His intention was to break the tension and here he was telling Derek how he looked softer.

Derek, for his part, had seemed to relax as Stiles rambled on. His eyebrows climbing slightly and a small smile taking the place of the embarrassed gape he had previous. At the mention of his looks, Derek had flushed again, but it was more a pleased flush, which sent all kinds of pleasant tinglings through Stiles’s body.

Damn it, Stiles thought, it’s been years and he can still do this to me!

Stiles gulped, then decided retreat would be his best option.

“Man, I’ve just been standing here talking your ear off and you probably just came to do some grocery shopping. I’ll let you go, man, but it was really great to see you!”

Stiles began walking backwards, trying to get out of the aisle as fast as he could.

Derek’s face fell slightly as Stiles moved away, then a look determination replaced his saddened surprise.

“Stiles,” Derek called.

Stiles froze, the sound of Derek’s voice washing over him. Stiles had forgotten how soft Derek’s voice really was.

“How long are you in town?” Derek asked.

Stiles swallowed again, then choked out, “I leave after New Years.” His voice cracked slightly, making him feel even more embarrassed.

Derek smiled, and Stiles could feel the resulting flash of pleasure at seeing that soft look on Derek’s face all the way to his toes.

“Maybe we could get a drink sometime? Catch up?” Derek asked.

Stiles couldn’t seem to form words, so he just nodded, enthusiastically.

“Great,” Derek said, his smile widening, showing how much chubbier his cheeks had gotten. Derek’s eyes traveled up and down Stiles body, something Stiles could almost feel like a physical force. “You look good too, Stiles. I’m glad I ran into you.”

Stiles was still somewhat speechless, standing gaping slightly at the man who had helped him realize his bisexuality, and the smoldering look he was now giving him.

The annoying beeping of Stiles phone shattered the moment, and Stiles quickly dropped down to snatch his phone off the floor. Scott was asking why he hadn’t texted back, and Stiles didn’t know how to tell him that maybe he had just had the best moment of his life in the supermarket.

Looking back up at Derek’s smiling face, Stiles himself couldn’t stop from grinning. Resuming his retreat, Stiles waved at Derek before he turned to head down a different aisle.

“See you around, Derek!” He called.

“See you soon, Stiles.” Derek replied.

Stiles hurried away so Derek couldn’t see the blush on his face.

This might turn out to be the best Christmas ever.


	2. Tummy Tuesday

The little bell over the tuxedo shop door tinkled as Stiles made his way inside. The place was smaller, and dimmer, than the shops Stiles had rented formal-wear from before, especially in DC. Then again, formal-wear in DC was a huge industry. Here in Beacon Hills, there really wasn’t much call for it aside from the high school prom and the occasional wedding.

Stiles took a moment to look around. The shop was filled with racks of different tuxedos and suits. Off to one side, three mannequins showed off the different cuts and styles of tuxedos being offered. Their colors seemed tuned to the holiday season. On the other wall was a huge rack of ties, varying in both color and pattern, bow tie and neck tie alike. Stiles had just reached up to play with a bright pink tie when he heard someone clear their throat behind him, causing Stiles to spin around.

Behind Stiles stood an older man, wearing a fitted vest over a white long-sleeved shirt and pressed pants. His glasses sat perched at the end of his nose, though his eyes were clear and sharp. “May I help you young man?” He asked, a slight accent coloring his words.

Stiles nodded, smiling his friendliest smile. “Yeah, I’m, uh, here for the McCall Wedding? We’re supposed to have a fitting for the groomsmen?” Stiles voice was a little unsure at the steely gaze he was receiving.

The man was motionless for a second, before his frosty exterior melted slightly into a soft smile. “Ah, yes, of course. You must be Mr. Stilinski. Please, take a seat. I’ll get the suits ready for everyone.” The old man gestured to a hideously antique looking chair in the corner, then turned and headed toward the back of the shop, leaving Stiles alone again.

Stiles sighed out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and made his way over to the chair in the corner. Sitting down gently, Stiles still winced as the chair popped a couple times.

Man, it’s a good thing Derek’s not sitting in this chair, Stiles thought. The run-in with Derek two days ago had re-awoken thoughts about the older man that Stiles hadn’t had in years. That isn’t to say that he never thought about Derek, but usually said thoughts were limited to when he was dealing with a particularly surly perp, or that one guy who worked out at the same gym as Stiles, who seemed to share Derek’s penchant for pull ups and leather jackets.

Of course, they were nothing like the Derek that Stiles had run into at the grocery store. That Derek had looked like a man who had given up his self-torture routine in favor of some self-indulgence. Not that Stiles minded the new Derek in the least, though he wished he had taken time to get a better look at the man. 

His surprise at seeing Derek meant that he had only taken in his chubby cheeks and, of course, those moobs. (Derek always had a great chest. The fact that his pecs has softened up only made Stiles’s mouth water more. He was a kinky fucker. So sue him.)

Even now, thinking about Derek made something warm pool in the pit of Stiles’s stomach. Swiping open his phone, Stiles navigated to his messenger and started a new conversation with the last number he had on record for Derek.

“Hey, this is Stiles,” he typed, “is this still your number?” Stiles pressed send, then switched out of messenger to open a game of words with friends he had been continuing with Lydia since high school, doing his best to distract himself from obsessively waiting for a reply. Of course, he had barely gotten his game open when his phone buzzed with an incoming message.

Stiles swiped back to the messenger and read the reply excitedly.

“That depends, Stiles, who are you trying to reach?” the message said.

Unsure and somewhat nervous, Stiles fingers hovered over the keyboard for a few moments as he thought about how to reply. He decided to go with funny.

“This old man I used to know. Ran into him in the grocery story buying prunes two days ago. Somehow they ended up in my basket and I thought I would return them.” Stiles smiled as he typed, hoping that his message would be well received.

Above him, the doorbell tinkled, but Stiles kept his focus on his phone, waiting to see what the person on the other end of the line might say. His laser-focus probably explained why he didn’t notice the person standing over him until they spoke.

“Prunes, Stiles? Really?”

Stiles jumped, his head snapping up to the face of the man who had spoken to him, the one he’d been trying to text.

Derek looked down at Stiles with a smirk on his face, his stubbled cheeks round and glowing as he took in the younger man’s surprise.

“Holy shit, dude!” Stiles said, “what the hell are you doing here?” Stiles jumped up from the chair, ignoring its creaking as he stood. Derek was standing very close and Stiles found himself bumping into Derek’s belly when he stood. (Holy shit! Derek Hale has a belly!)

Derek took a step back, his face reddening from the contact.

Stiles took the opportunity to take in Derek’s form fully. He was dressed in another one of his soft sweaters. This one was green, which really made his eyes pop. His body was broad and bulky under the knitted fabric. The sweater was loose enough to hide the details but still gave a general idea of size, and to Stiles, it said Derek had been indulging quite a bit. Stiles licked his lips as he looked back at Derek’s face, which had reddened even more under the scrutiny. His ears were even red.

“I’m…um…here for the fitting?” Derek said, unsure-sounding so it came out like a question.

Stiles cocked his head to the side. “The fitting? For Scott’s wedding?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Derek said, “I’m a groomsman. Didn’t Scott tell you?”

Stiles sputtered. “No! He most certainly did not! But that’s awesome, man! Does that mean the two of you worked out your differences?”

Derek smiled and nodded. “Yeah. He and I had a big heart to heart last year when I moved back. I think we’d both grown up a lot since then.”

“Awww, Derek Hale, having a heart-to-heart!” Stiles teased.

Derek smiled, blushing again and looked down, embarrassed. “Shut up,” he said, punching Stiles in the arm.

“Hey, watch it! Still a fragile human here!” Stiles mock-whined, rubbing his bicep.

Derek rolled his eyes. “Oh please, Stiles. You were never fragile,” Derek teased, “Besides, you look like you could take down a whole pack of alphas yourself now.” Derek’s eyes raked of Stiles body, taking in the added musculature Stiles had earned from his training.

Stiles swallowed, heat pooling in his stomach again.

“What…what about you, big guy?” Stiles tripped over the words, “you been keeping the deer population around here under control by yourself?” Stiles hit Derek’s belly with the back of his hand. The soft flesh jiggled slightly on impact and Stiles’s mouth went dry when he’d realized what he’d done. His mind began whirring with arousal and embarrassment.

Derek’s smile dropped for a second, and Stiles worried that he’d insulted Derek, that he’d ruined his chance and the older man was gonna be angry at him. But then Derek took a step forward, leaning in so his lips were just next to Stiles’s right ear and his belly was pressing up against Stiles’s front.

“Nah, deer’s too lean,” Derek whispered huskily, “but I have been eating all the bacon I can find to keep it off your dad’s plate.”

Stiles gasped softly, the gentle caress of Derek’s breath against his ear making his shiver as the warmth of Derek’s soft stomach enveloped his torso. Stiles raised his hands and gently placed them on Derek’s stomach, squeezing the flesh slightly. God, Derek must have put on sixty pounds, Stiles thought as Derek breathed heavily in his ear.

“What about…donuts, big guy?” Stiles whispered, “you keeping those off his plate too?”

Derek hummed an affirmative, placing his hands on Stiles’s hips and bringing their bodies even closer together. Stiles heart ratcheted up a notched, and Stiles could feel Derek’s smirk against his jaw.

“Oh yeah,” the older man murmured, “especially the jelly-filled ones. They’re my favorite.”

“Oh god,” Stiles gasped, his hard-on throbbing painfully.

“Gentlemen, are you ready?”

Stiles flailed back from Derek at the sound of the shop-runner’s voice, his face flaming with embarrassed splotches. He would have tripped back into the chair if Derek hadn’t caught his arm and kept him upright.

Derek smirked at him, then turned and crab-walked through the racks to the back of the store where the old man waited. “I’m as ready as I ever will be, Arnoldo,” Derek announced, “though Stiles may need a minute.” Derek looked back over at Stiles and winked.

Stiles's heart skipped as he watched Derek’s broad back disappear into the dressing room. He dropped back into the chair with less finesse than he probably should have, if the creaking of the chair was any indication, and put his head in his hands, taking a deep shuddering breath.

What the hell had just happened? That was definitely more than just teasing. That was…that was full on flirting!

The bell over the door tinkled again and Scott came striding into the shop.

“Oh good, you’re here! And did I see Derek’s car outside too? He must already be in the back, huh?” Scott said.

Stiles looked up at his friend and glared. Scott and he were going to have a long discussion about sharing information. But definitely somewhere that sensitive werewolf ears couldn’t hear.

From the back, Stiles could swear he heard a chuckle.


End file.
